


Before I Fall.

by Apiaristic



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Beelzebub created bugs, Before they fell, Crawley and Aziraphale shag in the garden, Creation, Crowley created the stars, Everything is okay and a bit smutty but then everything changed the fire nation attacked, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Pre-canon universe, Tags here wow, The Beginning, They're cute???, how does one tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-08-23 06:29:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20238283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apiaristic/pseuds/Apiaristic
Summary: Aziraphale watched the light disappear for a moment, and then watched it float across the sky until it sat so close to another light that it disappeared. His face fell. "Oh dear! Did it crash and burn?" He asked, tucking his hands worriedly beneath his chin. Crawley laughed again."No, no. It just looks like it was pulled into orbit around another star. Funny, that was the first one I created myself.""It looks like one star.""Yep. But they're a pair now.""Beautiful."Crawley was staring at Aziraphale. Aziraphale was staring at the sky."Yes, Beautiful."





	1. In the Beginning.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, uh  
I've wanted to write something like this for a while, but never got around to it until now.  
I'll put smut / NSFW warnings at the start of the chapters when they arise, if I get enough asks for it?? I dunno.  
Anyway, yeah.  
This is going to be a roller-coaster of emotions.

In the beginning, God created heaven and earth.  
And the earth was without form, and void, and darkness was upon the face of the deep, and the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters.

And God said, let there be light.  
And there was light.

And God saw the light; that it was good, and God divided the light from the darkness.

When Aziraphale was born, the first thing he knew was the dark. He didn’t know where he was, in that great darkness, didn’t know what he was, but a consciousness flickering in the dark. He couldn’t feel anything save for the warm blanket of infinite black that cloaked him.  
When the angel opened his hues and looked around at the empty space, a feeling settled in the pit of his stomach like mud, and twisted its way around his being, coiling and tightening as a word came to his mind, put there by someone- something else.

‘Fear.’  
This feeling, Fear.

A short way off, there was another bright light. Another consciousness? He wasn’t alone. The tight feeling wound around him started to dissipate, replaced with a warm feeling of… of…

‘Comfort.’

Another, Another, Another. More and more lights appeared around him, beside him, pushed and bumped and shoved until all he could see was white.  
Then he was standing in a blank room, sculpted feet bare against the cold tile of this blank, white room.  
He was naked, but he wouldn’t know that until later. 

For now, all he knew was this room, this infinite, white room. Outside the windows- [ The word sort of just jumped into his mind. Windows? He’d never known them before. ] He could see buildings that reached as high as the sky. White. Everything was white. His skin, his hair, the walls, the floor, everything but-

“Good gosh, another one.” 

A voice from the left. Aziraphale’s head snapped around, and it took him a moment to register that there was another entity there. Another feeling in his stomach, this one jumped and tickled, and he had the sudden urge to throw up.

‘Excitement.’

“Are you okay? You seem lost. It can be rather disorientating at first, but you’ll grow used to it.” A woman, or an entity holding the form of a woman, stood stark against the other wall of the room, She had blue-black hair that reminded Aziraphale of an empty universe, [ even though he had not yet seen one- as far as he knew. ]

If not for the huge butterfly that perched on her head like a beret and buffeted its wings against her hair, Aziraphale may have stared at her locks and wondered for an eternity how he knew these things he now suddenly knew and felt. He blinked, and she was holding a sort of sheet in her hands, moving towards Aziraphale with such grace that she could have been flying. Aziraphale took a wary step backwards.

As she got closer, it became apparent that she had butterflies fluttering about her face and shoulders, settling on her skin and filling her eyes with glittering excitement, brightening her white dress and pale skin with bright colours.  
“My name is Beelzebub.” She introduced, draping the fabric over Aziraphale, wrapping it around his shoulders and letting it fall down his torso in waterfalls. "Most of the angels here simply call me Beez, however. It's easier." She smiled. It was now he noticed his nakedness, and blushed a shade of red that made the woman in front of him giggle almost silently.

A butterfly graced his nose, and he sneezed, shaking his head as the creature jumped back into the air, twirling and keeping Aziraphale's gaze for a good minute.

“Apologies, they won’t seem to leave me be.” Beelzebub murmured sheepish, wrapping the fabric around his body until he had a sort of dress that scraped the floor when he moved. "You'd think that as their creator, they'd leave me be, maybe."

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t understand.” Aziraphale murmured, watching the woman as she stepped away and clasped her hands in front of her, butterflies of all sizes settling on her sharp collarbones and teasing her cheeks. She only smiled. “Where- I- Uh, who-?”

“Come,” She beckoned, gesturing towards a set of double doors. When she turned about, Aziraphale could see the magnificent pair of wings that sprouted from her shoulder blades, matching the butterfly that sat on her scalp. They draped down her back and almost grazed the floor when they walked, and it wasn't until she spoke that Aziraphale remembered that he was supposed to be paying attention. “This is your home.”

When she pushed the door open, the first thing Aziraphale registered in his mind was the peace.

The sky was so blue that he could have mistaken it for a painting, something so beautiful it couldn't have been truly real. The light breeze buffeted his white curls of hair and made his lips twitch upwards into a smile. He was home, or at least it felt- it felt like home. Like a home. He reached out a hand to one of the birds that spun past his head, and he laughed for the first time, watching the tiny creature twitter and settle in the hands of another angel sitting in the grass with outstretched palms.

“Usually Lucifer or Rafael would be around to greet the new ones, but they’re both out on errands.” Beelzebub said, stepping onto the grass with bare feet, lifting her dress so as to not trip on it. As she did, bugs crept from the earth, dancing patterns up her dress and creeping over her arms. She beamed, cooing to the ants and the snails, dancing with the bees and the butterflies that took to the sky.

Aziraphale watched in awe, blinking almost dumbly as he watched her, so content, so oddly happy here.

“Who am I?”  
He asked suddenly, interrupting her dance with a question. When she laughed at him, it sounded like a million tiny wings, gently disturbing the air around as they took to the sky, singing.

“You are Aziraphale. Angel and Principality of the eastern gate. You were born this morning, pulled from the sky and moulded from stars."

“What does that mean?”

"It means that our Lord gave you life where there was none."

"No, I mean- The bit about principalities and gates."

“Ah- Well, I should imagine the gate bit has something to do with the garden.”

Aziraphale paused and tipped his head, baby-faced and innocent.  
“The Garden?”

Beelzebub grinned wide, clasping her hands in front of herself. “The Garden of Eden, Our Elohim’s finest and first creation on earth.” She spoke of it like it was her child, something to be treasured.  
She stepped across the grass and Aziraphale followed, watching in awe as the wings on her back fluttered and spread, and the angel’s eyes followed the corner of one of the appendages to the sky and the surrounding area, staring. There was green grass as far as he could see, no city in sight like there had been outside the windows in the first building. Other angels danced across the grass, guiding tiny creatures and bigger ones, while some stood in small groups and talked, or encouraged saplings and tended to bushes.

“Is this the garden?” He asked dumbly, watching a small angel coaxing a fawn to walk.  
Where were all these words coming from? He didn’t know them a moment ago.

Fluttering wings again as Beelzebub showed her amusement. “No, Aziraphale. This is simply an extension of heaven.” Beelzebub explained, stopping now to stand in front of the other. She reached to take his hands in hers, and he almost jumped at how soft her hands were, how carefully she took his palms in hers. "Relax now, transport for the first time can be uncomfortable."  
A bright, bright light, and suddenly, they were somewhere else. Aziraphale struggled to keep his balance, stumbling as Beelzebub let his hands go.  
“This is the garden.”

When Aziraphale caught his feet and leaned against a nearby tree, he gasped. The garden was beautiful. Trees reached for the sky with green fingers and blessed the surrounding area with leaves, whispering greetings to the two angels. Flowers burst from the soil and gave flickers of colour to the surrounding greenery. Vines connected the trees to one another, and off in the thick, Aziraphale was sure he saw a few pairs of eyes blinking out at him.

Suddenly, that feeling again. Fear wrapped around his stomach and curled its way up his throat. Something cold and slick was wrapping about his ankle. Aziraphale jumped at the feel of scales, and he scattered backwards, falling onto his behind with his eyes squeezed shut.

“Janai!” Beelzebub’s voice snapped harsh, coaxing Aziraphale’s eyes open. “Leave the poor angel alone.”

The sound of laughter again, this time more- natural, graced his ears, and his eyes met thin ankles that led up to almost knobbled knees, and then a sharp face that stared down at Aziraphale with a mischievous grin.

“Sorry. Couldn’t help myself.” The other spoke, extending a hand to Aziraphale, helping him to his feet again. Aziraphale only stared, blinking baby blues at the other angel, who had the reddest hair he'd ever seen, curling in perfect coils down his back. When he stopped staring, he hurried to brushed off his clothes indignantly and opened his mouth to speak before he was interrupted again.

“Make yourself useful, show Aziraphale around, won’t you?”  
Beelzebub asked, though it sounded more like an order.

Janai complained, his tightly-wound red curls bouncing about his shoulders as he rocked on his heels. “Must I? I’m busy deciding on a better name than Janai.” He said, twisting his mouth in a look of distaste as he spoke, turning to Aziraphale with eyes that sparkled like, like- 

“Nobody is going to call you Crawley, or Crowley, it's stupid.” Beelzebub snapped, scoffing as he tossed hair over his shoulder and petted the butterfly on his scalp with a finger, cooing gentle.

Those eyes snapped away again to glare at Beelzebub. “Janai is worse.”

“It's a fine name. It means-”

“Yahweh answers, yeah, yeah, I know.”

“What about my name?”  
Aziraphale butted in, pointing to himself as if he felt left out. “Does mine mean something special?”

Beelzebub smiled gentle, their face lighting up.  
“Aziraphale means, ‘He whom God comforts and heals.’ Its beautiful.”

"Take your pansy softness back to Gabriel, you sap.” Janai suddenly stated, rolling his eyes while Beelzebub’s cheeks flushed indignantly, wings flaring behind him defensively. He looked bigger now, and Aziraphale almost shrunk away. Janai only laughed, and with a puff of wind, great black feathers unfurled from his shoulders and spread wide. "I can do it too, Beelzebub." He teased, drawing out the 'ee'. The much shorter angel grouched, puffing their cheeks and turning on their heel.

"Fine. I know when I'm not wanted."

Janai waved his fingers at them almost mockingly, and when Aziraphale finally blinked, getting over his shock, they were gone.

"That wasn't nice."  
He said suddenly, turning from the spot where Beelzebub once was to stare at Janai.  
"You upset them."

The angel rolled his eyes and shrugged, turning back to Aziraphale with a smile.  
"They'll be okay. It was just playful banter."

"You said that your name was Jan- Jen- Janei?"

He laughed.  
"Janai. But most people call me Crawley."

"Most people?"

"Beelzebub is just mean."  
He said defensively, reaching above himself to pick an apple from the tree above, turning it over in his hands.  
"Your name is Aziraphale, yes?"

Aziraphale nodded, clasping his hands in front of himself like he had seen the other angel do, watching Crawley carefully, like he was a specimen to be studied. He had high cheekbones and a carefully sculpted nose, and deep-set eyes that glittered like stars.  
No, not like stars. With stars. He had little stars in his eyes that shimmered when he blinked and moved, and in the dim light, he could see stars spotted across his nose like freckles.  
"Principality and uh- Something of the eastern gate."

"Already given you a job then, eh?"  
Crawley mused, tossing Aziraphale the apple and watching with amusement as he struggled to catch it in his hands.

"Ah, Yes, I suppose." He replied, staring at the fruit before his eyes danced back to Crawley's wings. They too, glittered with stars, the feathers such a deep blue that they were almost black. "Does everybody have wings?" Aziraphale queried.

The angel hummed, spreading his feathers almost proudly.  
"Uh-huh. It takes a test to have them appear for the first time, though."

"A test?"

"Yup. Prove yourself to the almighty."

"How?"

"Typically, you have to create something." He instructed, taking the apple back from Aziraphale and clasping his hands around it. "Something substantial, that nobody else has made before." He whispered, moulding his hands around the apple until Aziraphale was sure there was no apple in his hands anymore. When Crawley opened his palms again, in place of the apple was a bright, bright light, which gave off a warmth that made Aziraphale beam.

"Incredible."

"Its a star."  
Crawley said smug, holding the bright light in his cupped palms, the streams of light illuminating both of their faces.  
"I came up with them."

"What is it?"

"Its uh- a great, big, burning ball of energy."

"Woah."

"Yeah. Gabriel came up with planets, so I got second best and went with stars."  
He explained, coaxing Aziraphale to take the star from him. He watched as the angels face lit up with excitement, watched the way he held the tiny thing like it was a delicate porcelain doll.

"Its beautiful." The angel whispered, jerking Crawley from his thoughts. "It's really amazing."

"Do you want to put it in the sky?" He asked with a grin, watching the other light up even more. "Come, I'll show you how."

The trees rustled and bowed, the grass soft underfoot as the pair walked through the garden, talking the whole way. Aziraphale held the star like a baby, and Crawley pointed out everything he saw, enjoying the way his newfound friend eagerly listened. The wind tousled Crawley's hair, and he only slightly regretted not tying it away from his face somehow as his curls danced in the wind.  
Eventually, the two stood on a beach, barefoot in the sand and surrounded by nothing but open sea in front and the gorgeous sky above, the lush green of the garden behind.

Crawley waved his hand, and suddenly, the sky darkened, leaving the only light in Aziraphale's hands. The angel stepped closer to Crawley almost out of discomfort, the darkness suffocating.

"Wait a moment." Crawley whispered, beaming. "Watch."

Aziraphale did as told, and then gasped. A moment later as promised, and the sky lit up, glittering with the same light Aziraphale held in his hands, making him laugh in awe.

"What beauty!" He cried, turning in a circle in the sand and almost tripping as he tried to take in all of the sky at once. Crawley chuckled.

"Here." He hummed, reaching to cup his palms beneath Aziraphale's hands, still cradling the star.  
He pushed up with his hands, guiding the other angel to toss the star upwards. Worried, Aziraphale looked like he was ready to catch the light again, but instead, it simply floated upwards until it was as tiny, but still as beautiful, as the rest of the stars in the sky.

Aziraphale watched the light disappear for a moment, and then watched it float across the sky until it sat so close to another light that it disappeared. His face fell. "Oh dear! Did it crash and burn?" He asked, tucking his hands worriedly beneath his chin. Crawley laughed again.

"No, no. It just looks like it was pulled into orbit around another star. Funny, that was the first one I created myself."

"It looks like one star."

"Yep. But they're a pair now."

"Beautiful.."

Crawley was staring at Aziraphale. Aziraphale was staring at the sky.

"Yes, Beautiful."


	2. Without form, and Void.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trouble a-brews.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowowie- I uh, sorta threw in a few- OCs, ish? I sorta just headcanoned in a Raphael and Lucifer.  
Lucifer is an edgy teenager.  
Raphael is a daddy.  
Next chapter will be Ineffable Beaurocracy NSFW.

A few weeks past. Aziraphale and Crawley had grown close over the passing time, and Aziraphale had filled Crawleys metaphorical sky with more stars than he could have ever imagined. They were practically inseparable, and Aziraphale had latched onto Crawley like a bird imprinted on its mother. He looked up to him for everything, trusted him with everything.

Crawley thought that he put too much faith in him.

On the plains of heaven, in the grass and beneath a never-setting sun, Lucifer was stood in a tree, great golden wings spread wide and capturing everyone's attention. Aziraphale had been caught up, standing with a small crowd of angels and staring up almost helplessly at the archangel, who appeared to be speaking.

“Is it right that we should be treated as slaves? To work for someone who won’t even grace us with their physical presence?” He called, his dark hair spilling down over his face and making him seem beautifully deranged. “This god, who supposedly gave us life, sentenced us to a life of working and rules, rules that we can never break.”

A murmur went up from the crowd, and Aziraphale could feel the unrest. It made him uneasy, and he shuffled on his feet, not knowing what to do or where to go-  
Until Crawley appeared, at least, sliding up to his side and placing a hand reassuringly on his shoulder. “I was looking for you everywhere, star. What are you- Oh.”

Star. The nickname made him proud, especially after the previous weeks adventure putting stars in the sky. It made him feel like he fit, like he had a place here. Aziraphale clasped his hands in front of himself and turned to Lucifer, humming. “He is causing unrest.”

“Mmm, seems it.” Crawley mused, furrowing his brow in thought. Aziraphale found himself lost in the shimmer of Lucifer’s great wings, the glitter of his eyes.

“Who is he?”

“Oh, Lucifer? He’s an archangel.”

“Arch-what?”

Crawley sighed. “He’s uhhh- a higher power. You have Angels, like me, and then archangels like Lucifer here, or Gabriel, Michael, Raphael. Then there are Principalities and Powers, Virtues, Cherubim, Seraphim, etcetera-” He waved his hands. “It’s all very confusing.

“Are Principalities higher than Archangels?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Principalities like you are more- guardians. Watchers. Archangels are like commanders in a war, and Angels are like the footsoldiers. We’re all sorta on the same level, but Lucifer-” Crawley paused, turning to watch the golden-winged angel preach. “Lucifer is God’s favourite.”

Aziraphale paused and frowned, his perfect face contorted in a sort of confusion that made Crawley soft. “Why does he seem so against God then?”

A shrug. “I’m sure he has his reasons.”

Aziraphale hummed, seeming a bit lost inside himself as Crawley folded his arms, evidently listening to Lucifer’s speech.

“But we will not be silenced! We should be free to love, and feel, and want for whatever we like, and not be cursed for it!” The archangel spoke. “We want to be equal, to do as we want when we want without worry, to-”

“Alright, that's enough.” 

A voice silenced Lucifer’s speech, and all of the angels seemed to shrink slightly away.  
Crawley tugged Aziraphale closer to him almost, almost protectively.

“Stop this nonsense, Lucifer.” The voice commanded, a way parting for an archangel, evidently. Raphael carried himself with power, a poise that nobody could seem to match, not even Lucifer. His hair was cut short, dark-auburn curls pulled close to his head. Aziraphale could have easily mistook him for Crawley.   
“Cease causing unrest, brother.”

Lucifer, still perched in his tree, sneered, gesturing to Raphael like he was some kind of trophy.  
“Look here, a good little dog. I bet you clean God’s shoes with your tongue, you suck-up.”  
He insulted, turning his nose up. Unfazed Raphael straightened his tie. 

“I know that you’re angry, Lucifer. There is distemper in your heart. But God is not to whom your anger should be directed.” He splayed his hands, his sleeves rolled to his forearms, and Aziraphale could see golden shimmers of- tattoos? Up his arms and across his wrists. “Come, let us talk.”

Lucifer looked placated for a moment, as if he was considering it, and he even sidled down from his perch, golden wings ruffling indignantly. The crowd was silent, watching, waiting. Crawley’s hand on Aziraphale’s wrist was warm, but tight, and the angel almost whimpered, catching the other’s attention.  
Apologetic, Crawley let go.

“I don’t want to talk to you.” Lucifer scoffed, standing in front of Raphael, much shorter. He reminded Aziraphale of an edgy teen rebelling against his parents.  
Even though he hadn’t ever seen one. A teen or a parent. 

“So speak with god. Work out your anger.” Raphael urged, reaching to touch the archangel’s shoulder almost tenderly.  
Lucifer shrunk away and snarled, shoving past his ‘sibling’ to stride through the crowd.

“Leave me alone,” Were his final words before he was gone.

Crawley tugged at Aziraphale’s sleeve. “Lets get gone.” He whispered almost hurriedly, dragging his companion through the crowd and making him stammer.

“But why? What is going on? Crawley? Dear boy, you seem quite frazzled-”  
Crawley halted, turning to regard Aziraphale with curious eyes and a tilted head. He looked a little like a dog. “What is it?”

“You called me ‘dear’.”

“I- yes?”

“Nobody does that.”

“Well- I do!” Aziraphale stated indignantly, stamping a bare foot against the grass and making Crawley raise a brow. “And I demand that you explain this situation!”

A smile. A small one tugged at Crawley’s lips and he laughed quietly, running a hand through his red curls and laughed, pausing only to take a breath and stare at Aziraphale’s baby blues, lost for a moment. ”You’re such a child.”

“I am not!”

“You aaaaaaare.” Crawley teased, drawing out the word and sidling back up to Aziraphale. “Come on. It's just a bit of civil unrest.”

Aziraphale pursed his lips, falling into step with Crawley beside him. “Lucifer seems quite upset.”  
Crawley shrugged, reaching to pick a flower from the grass, turning it over in his hands.

“He’s just grouchy.”

“So it would seem.”


	3. God said, let there be light.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bee and Gabe get it on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kNoW that I said this would focus on husbands, bUT I wanted smut, and I don't feel that husbands has enough substance for it yet.   
So yes.  
Beaurocracy NSFW warning.

“We can’t keep this up.”

“Says who?”

“Like, everybody.”   
Trees rustled overhead and in the lush green of the garden, two figures sat, one hunched over, the other laying back and staring at the slowly darkening sky. “Angels aren’t supposed to- fornicate. It's called fornication for a reason. A sin.”

“But it's a good sin.” A butterfly grazed its wings across Gabriel’s face as Beelzebub spoke, and he curled his lip, sighing. “Have you heard Lucifer speak? He makes some good points.”

Gabriel turned, shifting to stare at his current lover, who was laying back in the grass. Beelzebub had his fingers aimed at the sky, dancing his digits with a few butterflies. Normally, he would have watched the other tenderly, adoring the way they so carefully created and enjoyed their creations, dancing with them as if they were old friends. “I choose not to listen. He speaks temptation.”

Beelzebub sat up, his black hair falling down over his bright green eyes and making him look almost edgy. He waved his hand, the butterflies dispersing save the one that sat atop his scalp. “He speaks sense.” He urged, shuffling forward in the dirt. “I mean, why should we serve god in only the way he wants us to? Why can’t we enjoy the pleasures of one another, and indulge?” He asked, furrowing his brow in a way that made Gabriel’s heart skip a pace.

“Because it's wrong.”

“But why?”

“Just because it is, sunshine.” Gabriel sighed exasperatedly, and reached forward to take his lovers cheek in hand tenderly, grazing the pad of his thumb over their cheek. His chest swelled when Beelzebub leaned into his touch and closed their eyes, comforted by each other’s presence. He shuffled closer, pressing his lips to Beelzebub’s nose. “It is what it is, and regardless of all, we must abide by the rules set before us. That is how we keep peace.” He whispered, almost as softly as the reeds that bowed to the wind. Beelebub smiled at him gently, placing his own, softer palm over Gabriel’s.

“I know. But I don’t want to stop this.” He whispered.

“Stop what?” The archangel asked, tipping his head.

“Kissing you,” Beelzebub started, shifting to straddle Gabriel’s hips, sitting on his lap and pressing a few soft kisses to his lovers jawline, making him chuckle. The angel had dubbed them ‘Butterfly kisses,’ rightfully so for the soft and fluttery way Beelzebub applied them across Gabriel’s face. “Touching you,” They continued, slipping their hand up Gabriel’s fabric-dress, making him shudder at the contact. He caressed his palm up the side of the archangels thigh, hiking his only source of modesty higher and higher until Beelzebub had his palm pressed to the firm of Gabriel’s stomach. “Loving you.” He finished, eyes half-closed as he leaned to press a tender kiss to the angels lips. Sweet, Gabriel always tasted so sweet, like honey, sugar, and a thousand good feelings combined. Their kisses were always sweet, soft and gentle, and Gabriel had yet to handle Beelzebub roughly. They always asked for it, but he was too cautious, worried he would hurt his frail-appearing lover with their short stature and thin frame. 

Gabriel melted into the kiss, letting his hands dance down Beelzebub’s sides and around to his back, coaxing the angel to spread his wings wide so that the archangel could admire them. Beelzebub had wings like nobody else, huge, mimicking a butterflies, printed like a monarch with gorgeous ochre and black mingling perfectly. They were soft as anything, delicate, and above all, incredibly sensitive.  
Unlike feathered wings, which mocked birds, Beelzebub’s wings were like thin sheets held together with nerves and blood vessels. They could sense something as minor as a change in the wind, and could tear simply with a sharp movement. Coated with a thin layer of coloured dust, they were something to be envied, at least, if it wasn’t a sin. Angelically-typical wings were only sensitive on the downy underside, closest to their body where, in birds, was only ever exposed to encourage mating.

Or something. Lucifer had created them, not Gabriel.

So when Gabriel oh-so lightly grazed his fingers down the black outline of Beelzebub’s wing, he was unsurprised by the gasp it ripped from his lovers throat, and even less surprised at the way he started to squirm. Soft, featherlight brushes brought inexplicable tingles and a rush of hormones and desire, Gabriel knew. If he used his fingers just right, just careful enough, he could have Beelzebub sobbing and moaning in moments, whereas if he so much as touched a nail to the appendages, he could have him bleeding out in moments as well.

“Gabriel.” He breathed, keening into the others touch and bowing his head in a way that made the archangel grin.  
“Yes, Angel?” He cooed, dancing the flat of his palm against the wing, tracing the lines and patterns there and smirking at the way Beelzebub tipped his head back, his mouth forming a perfect ‘O’ as the rumble of a moan crept up his throat. Gabriel leaned forward, nipping at the bare skin, tearing another feeble cry from his lovers mouth.

“O-oh...please,” He whimpered, bottom lip trembling and dented from where Beelzebub had bitten down to stifle his weak cries. Gabriel grinned and pointed his fingers, ever so slightly, and scratched down the inner-side of his wing, making him writhe. “G-Gabri-rie-l-! I- ahh..”

“What do you want, my light?”

“Pleas-e…”

“While you do sound gorgeous saying that, it's not a request.” He purred, teasing his fingers across his wings again. Beelzebub gasped and moaned, putty in Gabriel’s hands, especially when he slipped one of his big palms under his dress and fisted his dripping cock, giving him a heat to thrust up and into. He mewled like a kitten, buzzing like a swarm of bees and shuddering like leaves in the wind.

“Gabri-el, Gabriel, Ga-abriel,” Beelzebub panted, moaning a mantra of the archangel’s name as he started to twist his wrist and move his calloused hand along his member, earning him louder and louder cries. 

It wasn’t long, with the way Gabriel fondled and stroked him, before the other was gasping and on the verge of tears, bucking wildly into the archangels hand, his own fingers fisted in the fabric at Gabriel’s shoulders, his knees scrambling for purchase on the slick grass so that he could buck his hips with more fervor, toes curling.   
“Gab-briel, I- I’m g-onna cu-m,” He whimpered, face screwed tight with pleasure while his lover simply looked smugly calm.

“Do it for me, little angel,” Gabriel cooed, pressing his forehead tenderly forward against Beelzebub’s, coaxing the other to look at him. “You look so beautiful.”

“G-Gab-be- Ahhh- Oh-!” He yelled, keening forward against Gabriel and gasping, almost kissing him but not quite, moaning open-mouthed and hot into the archangel’s face, his own contorted into a picture of bliss as he spilled over the others hand, shaking and twitching with his release, wings beating at the air and shuddering as if they had a mind of their own, reacting to the overpowering sensation.

In the afterglow of a high, Gabriel hugged Beelzebub close, cooing praises and sweet nothings to his partner as he slumped forward, buzzing, hands pressed to the archangels chest, listening and lulled by the steady thrum of his heartbeat against his ribcage.  
“I cherish you.” He whispered, pressing tender kisses to his hair and smiling soft, content. 

“I love you too.” Beelzebub replied, feeble in Gabriel’s strong arms, but safe. He knew he was safe. “Hey, Gabriel?”

“Right here, sunshine.”

“You’ll never leave me, right?” He asked, sitting up enough that the archangel could see the concern in his eyes. “You’ll always be by my side?”  
A tender smile, a reassuring hand to his cheek and all of Beelzebub’s fears and worries melted aside as purple hues caught his own eyes.

“Always.”   
He breathed.

“And- And what If- What if I get lost?”

“I’ll find you.”

“Even to the ends of the earth?”

“There’s nowhere you can hide where I won’t find you.” Gabriel reassured, kissing Beelzebub’s forehead softly. “I promise.”

Calm settled over the garden in the evening haze of sunset, and everything was okay for now in the silent.

At least, It was calm in the garden.


	4. And the light was good.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More AziraCrawley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I Feel like this was super late and too short hhhhH  
Anyway. Yeah. I wanted to write something soft and sorta time-filling before I start the angst and drama and killing-of-ships. >;)

Aziraphale was surprised at how fast he was slipping into the dark ocean that was Crawley. It had started slowly, with little glances across the fields towards each other while the final few touches were being inserted into the garden, the final details of tree-bark and speckles on eggs, the last recordings of bird numbers and leaves on trees. He was mostly preoccupied with designing the wall that was to encompass the garden, working alongside Uriel with fervor. Though, in the moments that weren’t spent poring over the dimensions of sandstone or the possible damage that such a wall could do to the greenery, Aziraphale was with Crawley.

Slowly and then all at once, Aziraphale spent every spare moment within arms reach of the other. They were a pair; If there was Crawley, there was sure to be a plump, white-haired curiosity bumbling along beside him. Aziraphale was always willing, excited to see something new or to show off something he’d found to Crawley. They’d steal off to the garden when there was nobody looking, to watch the equines in foal, Aziraphale’s eyes wide at the sight of such big animals rendered almost helpless, but always guarded, on alert. Crawley was eager to show him the elephants.

The first time that Aziraphale watched something die, he was distraught. They’d been sitting in the boughs of a sandalwood, Crawley’s wings not-so-subtly wrapped around him, watching over an empty field. Aziraphale had been elated, seeing a young buck bound onto the plains, all awkward with its antlers but oddly graceful with its thin legs. He’d grabbed Crawley’s arm and pointed, gleefully watching the little creature with a purity that Crawley hadn’t seen ever.

A rustling in the grass to the left. Crawley’s head snapped around but Aizraphale hadn’t noticed, too engrossed in the majestic animal before it went down in a flurry.

Such was life. Big cats ate small horses. Small cats ate smaller rodents. Aziraphale didn’t understand the chain or the circle, and almost fell out of the tree when the grass stained red and a feline with red eyes and dark fur looked up from the carnage, stained with crimson.

Despite his friends' warnings, Aziraphale gracefully scrambled down the trunk and ran through the grass, trying to wave the cat off while Crawley fell from the tree and landed on his face, much less graceful. He got up, dusted himself off, and looked around for Aziraphale, sighing softly when he saw him sitting down in the grass, hands shaking over the dead carcass of the once-alive creature.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, Aziraphale.” Crawley had apologised softly, sinking to sit beside the other with a careful hand touched gentle to the others shoulder. Nobody saw the sparks that flew, the obvious care and love and genuine concern for the other angel that Crawley expressed, the fire that had been kindled between them now that nobody could extinguish. “But it's the way things go. Cats gotta eat, yeah?”

“Oh, Crawley,” Aziraphale had sobbed, lifting his head and breaking the others heart with the way his soft face was screwed up with sadness, his bright eyes dim with tears that rolled down his red cheeks. “It didn’t do anything to deserve this, it just wanted to- to-” He stammered, spreading his arm out to gesture to the field as another broken sound erupted from his throat. “Frolic! What if it had a- a family?” 

Crawley watched tenderly, sympathizing as Aziraphale reached to run a hand down the bucks neck, feeling the soft fur and the warmth that was slowly seeping from its body.  
“What if that cat had a family?” He asked quietly. “A hungry family? It's a harsh cycle, I know, Angel.” Crawley reached to place an arm around Aziraphale’s shoulder, and stifled a yelp as the other angel flung himself into Crawley’s arms and cried, arms wrapped around his waist and face buried in his chest.

Startled and blushing like a teenager, Crawley slowly wrapped his arms around Aziraphale and hugged him close, swallowing gently as he coaxed the sorrow from his closest confidants heart with soothing strokes of fingers through his curls of hair. He let him cry for a while, sitting like that in the grass beside the carcass. Aziraphale was practically on his lap now, but there came no complaint as the angel soaked Crawley’s toga with his wracked sobs.   
When he eventually quietened, Crawley waited for Aziraphale pulled away first. He didn’t want the other angel to think that he was tired or aching or bored of him- He could never be. Not in 6000 years or more.

“I’m dreadfully sorry.”  
Azirapahale whispered, hands tangled in the front of Crawley’s toga, pulling him close as if he was going to disappear. “I shouldn’t be getting so upset like this.” He murmured.

“What? No.” Crawley interrupted, stalling his strokes through Aziraphale’s hair, which he only now noticed that he was still doing. His hair was soft, it reminded Crawley of clouds. “It's a- disturbing thing to see. Besides, you’re naturally caring and empathetic, i’m not surprised that you felt such sadness seeing something die. It just shows that you have a heart.” He said softly, coaxing Aziraphale to look up at him, heart breaking again at the sorrowful look he gave him. 

“Really?” Aziraphale asked, tilting his head before he abandoned Crawley’s gaze to look at the shape in the grass beside them.

“Of course. It's a beautiful thing.”

He paused, glancing back to Crawley again, and pulled a face, almost amused. Crawley was staring at him with a faraway look, almost as if he was lost, though his eyes had a tenderness to them that he couldn’t help but smile at. “What’s a beautiful thing?”

Crawley started. “Huh-? Oh-! Uh, Your heart is. I- Well, I meant that- You’re beautiful- that is to say- your temperament-”

Aziraphale laughed, sitting up and putting his hands on Crawley’s cheeks to still his stammering and stuttering, his face burning.

“I was teasing, dear,” He beamed. “You get all in a flutter, like a bird, sometimes, I swear it.”

A hard swallow, a weak laugh. Crawley tried not to lean into Aziraphale’s hands, and then wished he had when the warmth of his palms left his face, leaving an odd ache in his chest.   
Gaze falling back to the deer, Aziraphale sighed softly, eyes saddening again. “What will happen to it now?”

Crawley hummed, shifting in his place to reach a hand, closing the bucks eyelids carefully with the pads of his fingers. “I imagine it will stay here until something comes along to uh…” He trailed off. Aziraphale looked horrified. 

“That- what! No, we can’t let that happen.” He said firmly, furrowing his brow. He took a breath, and Crawley raised an eyebrow, tipping his head as his friend clasped his hands together, and prayed, whispering under his breath.

The grass around the deer leapt to life, the grass greener and the dirt seeming softer. Crawley’s eyes widened, and he reached a hand to hold onto Aziraphale’s toga, but the other wasn’t paying any attention.

The deer’s carcass seemed to turn grey, the skin falling away and turning black. Disgusted, Crawley wrinkled his nose as Aziraphale just kept praying. When the carcass had turned into a mush of skin and organs, and then white bone, the surrounding area was more beautiful than it had been before. White flowers sprouting from the grass, and where the body had once been, there was a grotto-like collection of sprouting flora, oddly beautiful.

When Aziraphale stopped his prayer, he looked happy, but in a sad sort of way. He reached to touch the revitalized soil, brushing his hands over the flowers.  
“There. A much nicer way to leave this place.” He whispered almost silently, not yet noticing the way that Crawley was staring at him in disbelief. When he did notice, though, he gave him an odd stare.

“What?”

“You- You’re-” Crawley pointed almost feverishly, staring at the angel who was looking much more angelic now.

A pair of newly-born wings spread out in a grandiose display from Aziraphale’s back now, clean and white as his hair. Gold flecked the corners of his eyes where the skin wrinkled when he smiled and at the corners of his mouth where his skin dimpled. He was glowing with a light that Crawley couldn’t name, his eyes shining.   
“You’ve got your wings.” Crawley finally managed, shaking his head. “Whatever you just did- It was something new. You created something.” He smiled, watching Aziraphale’s confused blink.

“But- But all I did was make sure that something was given back- that their death wasn’t pointless or forever a sorrowful end-”

“That's just it. You created- buh- restoration, or- not-in-vain-ness.” Crawley said fast, reaching to hold the other angels hands in his own before he realized what he was doing. When Aziraphale didn’t pull away, though, neither did he. 

Aziraphale grinned, glittering with gold on his face and all soft with his new wings. “I- I guess I did.” He said, interlacing his fingers with Crawley’s and sending him reeling. “Thank you, Crawley.”

“What for? I didn’t do anything.”

Aziraphale just gave him a look and then stood up slowly, spreading his wings and surprisingly stable for someone who just had a new weight added to their spine. Crawley scrambled to follow, giving one final glance to the grotto of fungi and flowers. 

“Crawley-” Aziraphale began, making the red-head start. “Will you teach me to fly?”

“Of course, Angel.”


End file.
